


it's been two years and yet i still miss you

by periwinklepandas



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Homesick TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), One Shot, Other, President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo Misses TommyInnit, TommyInnit Deserves Better (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Misses Toby Smith | Tubbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28358280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepandas/pseuds/periwinklepandas
Summary: It's been two years, and a pair of best friends miss each other ----- a lot.  (reposted from my (taken down) oneshots book)
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	it's been two years and yet i still miss you

**Author's Note:**

> so this is from a horrible terrifiying disgusting universe where tommy doesnt commit minor terrorsism with anarchist and instead remains in exile for 2 years  
> thats an excuse for "i had to repost this but now its outdated"
> 
> original notes : *waves pink magic wand* WRITING BLOCK BEGONE. *pile of tommy and tubbo content appears in front of me* wait, i needed to do requests- nevermind.  
> so how have yall been? i have the day off tmr, so yay! here is some MORE exiledinnit angst! yay! be prepared for 1k words of p a i n......  
> so this is set two years after Tommy gets exiled, and tubbo can't visit him. this might have turned out a teenyy bit too dramatic, but WHATEVER THIS IS FANFICTION NO RULES.  
> enjoy :)
> 
> word count : 1141
> 
> tw:// slight suicidal thoughts, slight self hate

It'd been two years.

Twenty-four months.

Seven hundred and thirty days.

Seven hundred and thirty days since he had exiled his best friend from the country they'd built and fought for together. 

Seven hundred and thirty days since he had been exiled by his best friend from the country they'd built and fought for together. 

Life moved on, of course. It always did. No matter what groundbreaking event happened in one's life, no matter how traumatizing or shocking it was, the universe moved on. The earth kept spinning, the rain kept falling, the river kept flowing. Perhaps the universe simply didn't care, because why should it? Thousands of things like these happened every day across the world. 

Didn't they? 

Or perhaps the universe did care. Perhaps it did care, maybe even grieved for the happening of these things. Perhaps this was its way of telling one to move on, not to let one's heart and soul be consumed by sorrow.

Whatever the case, life moved on. And so did the pair of friends. 

\------------------------------------------------

Tubbo's heart had hurt at first. It had hurt and hurt and been consumed by guilt, overwhelming guilt at the exile of his best friend.

But he was the president, after all, and there was work to be done. So Tubbo threw himself into his work. He threw himself into rebuilding Manberg, and after that ------- building more and more things, redstone projects and farms. And it was fine. Time heals all wounds, after all. The crashing waves of time drowned out the sorrow, but what replaced the sorrow was not happiness, but a null, empty void. 

It felt like Tubbo was missing a piece. So often he'd turn around to ask a certain blond for advice, only to be met with thin air. 

"Tommy would love this," He thinks, before he remembers that he hasn't seen his best friend in over a year.

He missed it all. He missed his friend's shouts and yells, missed his energy and spontaneous ideas, missed the feeling of happiness and sunshine that came with Tommy.

He wanted to see his best friend again. He wanted to fill the void in his heart, the piece of his heart that had been torn away along with the banishment of Tommy. 

Pain. That was all he felt, the ache in his heart spiking every time he so as _thought_ about the blond, thought about all their memories together, of the laughter and happiness.

It had been what? Two years? Two years since he'd banished Tommy from Manberg, on _Dream's_ orders no less.

Two years.

He was nineteen now, He wasn't a kid anymore, wasn't a naive kid anymore. He was the president, he had been for two years.

But it still hurt.

Everything still hurt from the pain, the pain of saying a tearful goodbye to Tommy and never seeing him again while he screamed and cursed at him, the pain of missing Tommy so much his heart hurt at night, during the day, always hurt.

He missed Tommy so much ---- he just wanted him _back._

His Tommy.

His best friend.

He probably hated him after what he'd done. Who exiles their best friend from the country he helped build and defend and fight for? 

He wanted to tell Tommy that he was sorry, sorry for not standing by him, sorry for banishing him from the country he loved, that _they both loved-_

He wanted to apologize.

He wanted to see Tommy again, to be pulled along by him as they raced down the wooden pathways, to listen to his rants about new ideas and concepts, to laugh and laugh together until their stomachs hurt.

He wanted his best friend.

Too late now. _(perhaps it was never meant to be)_

\--------------------------------------------------

There are four stages of grief.

Shock, sorrow, anger, and depression. 

Tommy had felt shocked at first. He'd felt pure shock and surprise at first, standing on the obsidian wall that had surrounded Manberg then.

He remembered that moment all too vividly.

He remembered Tubbo asking Dream to escort him out, remembered the shocked cries of Quackity and Fundy.

He remembered Dream pushing him off the obsidian walls, landing in the pool of water beneath.

He remembered the boat ride over the ocean in the moonlight, the rain falling, wetting his hair.

He remembered sitting on the grass of the island, tears flowing down his face, Ghostbur trying to comfort him. 

Tommy had cried for the longest time, cried and wept on the grass, curled up into a ball, choked sobs wracking his frame, bright tears sliding down his face. He cried until dawn came, painting the sky with pale pinks and yellows, and simply sat on the grass, grief-stricken.

Time passed, and then Tommy felt anger, rage at the injustice of it all. He wasn't mad at Tubbo, he still missed him. What was he mad at then? Tommy didn't know.

The anger sparked a fire in him, fueling his actions. Tommy made a house, got resources, went mining, he was non-stop, trying to bury his grief with false anger at his best friend, at everyone.

But all fires burn out eventually, and Tommy found himself having less and less motivation to do things. There were days where Tommy would simply lie on the floor, unmotivated. 

More than once Tommy had sat in the Nether on a jutting ledge, his legs hanging over the bubbling lava, urging himself to just let go, just to push out a little further and end it all. He'd felt the heat of the magma rise up, tempting him to just jump already, the tantalizing warmth enticing him to end it all. 

Pain. Tommy's heart hurt every moment, hurt with grief.

Two fucking years.

It had been two years since his exile. His birthdays had come and gone, barely celebrated. He was an adult now, eighteen, not a bubbly, hyperactive sixteen year old anymore.

Yet every moment still hurt. It still hurt from the pain of the breakup of a childhood friendship, even after two years of trying to _just get over it already-_

Everything hurt, he missed his best friend so much --- so fucking much.

His Tubbo.

His best friend.

He probably hated him now anyways, didn't he? All he did was fuck everything up, cause chaos, cause war and pain.

He wanted to tell Tubbo how sorry he was, how so so sorry he was for messing this up, sorry for his impulsive decisions, sorry for breaking the peace between the two nations.

He wanted to apologize.

He wanted to see Tubbo again, to hug his best friend, to hear him ramble about bees again, to see his eyes light up when they saw each other.

He wanted his best friend.

Too late now. _(perhaps it was never meant to be)_


End file.
